Her eyes
were a different kind of dangerous,
but I loved how safe my heart always felt
while sitting helpless in her gaze.
About the Creator
MD
I am a poet and writer, entwined in passionate embrace with souls of poets, penning love letters to their words.
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Our Song
Evening has given way to night. Gently, I settle next to you on the comfortable, old love seat and reach for your hand. You snatch it away, again. It cuts me to the quick, but I hide the pain, understanding that the reaction is but part of your demented state. Since the accident, your presence here in our cozy home has been clouded by a haze I can't see. Nevertheless, I feel the frigidity of your expressions and it serves as an excruciating reminder of the immeasurable distance between us.
By Dana Crandell4 days ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
Great ever👌
Nice piece ❤️💯